


Home is Where the Heart is (And My Heart is With You)

by NarryMusings



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst and Fluff, M/M, Narry - Freeform, minor sex scenes, narry storan - Freeform, road trip au, traveling au - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:40:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2388551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarryMusings/pseuds/NarryMusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has always been with Niall, has always gone where Niall's gone. So flying across the pond and drifting across the USA with Niall really isn't all that different. Until it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home is Where the Heart is (And My Heart is With You)

**Author's Note:**

> Hii. Here's another. 
> 
> Note: this doesn't really have a specific timeline. I just kind of started writing and couldn't stop; it wasn't supposed to be this long. Also, its Niall that has a love affair with LA - not Harry.
> 
> Tumblr: narrymusings

Harry looks across the console of the small rental car at the boy sitting next to him in the driver's seat. Niall. 

They've been in America for just over an hour now and Niall's just driving around New York City, looking at anything and everything in awe. Every now and then Niall's arm will fly across the space between them to smack Harry in the shoulder as Niall points something out to him. But Harry, though he should be because they're in freaking New York City, isn't paying attention to his surroundings at all because he's too busy staring at Niall.

Niall, who hasn't stopped grinning since they got on the plane back in London. Niall, who's all perfect white teeth and dyed blond hair with brown roots and giggles. Niall, who's still in complete and utter awe of the fact that they actually did it; "We did it, Haz. We're actually in America."

And yeah, New York is great and it's on his bucket list – the one Niall had made him make when they were 17 – of places he'd like to visit, but the truth is Harry isn't here for New York. He isn't here for America or for their bucket list. He isn't even here for the adventure.

The truth is, Harry's only here for Niall. And he'd be just as happy being with Niall if they were back home in London.

X

Harry is seven years old when he meets Niall, the boy who moves in next door on the first week of summer vacation. 

The boy is bright and bubbly, with eyes the colour of the ocean and a crooked, but adorable smile. He's totally Irish with his Irish accent and his Irish charm and his Irish luck. He's loud and he laughs a lot and kind of turns Harry's whole summer upside down what-with being mischievous and energetic and getting Harry into his trouble all the time.

The boy is actually kind of a menace and if Harry didn't sort of adore him so much, he might actually kind of hate him – but not really hate him, because Harry can't bring himself to hate anyone. (Not even the bullies at school.)

The thing is: Niall kind of comes into Harry's life like a tornado, picking everything up, spinning it all around and letting it fall somewhere it doesn't belong. He kind of shatters Harry's very perfect, very quiet, very shy world with his bright colours and his smile and his laughter. And Harry's kind of ok with that because, sure, Niall makes him do crazy things sometimes but Niall also makes him laugh and makes him smile and makes him happy. 

And by the end of the summer, Harry can no longer picture his life without Niall.

X

Niall finds them some kind of little bed and breakfast just outside New York City. It's reasonably priced, for the night, but Harry isn't sure how long Niall plans on staying here. In fact, Harry isn't really sure what Niall's plan is at all – or whether or not Niall even has one. All Niall said, two weeks ago when he brought it up, was that he wanted to travel across America and Harry had said “ok.” He always says ok. 

It's only their first night in New York and Harry can't sleep, unlike Niall who's completely out cold in the bed beside him, because he's already wondering what the hell he was thinking, coming across the pond with a boy who didn't even have a plan or a route. Realistically, Harry knows he wasn't thinking at all – which is nothing out of the ordinary, really, not when it comes to Niall.

The only thing that brings him a sense of comfort, besides the boy sleeping next to him, is the fact that with his and Niall's savings combined, plus the few hundred dollars their mum's had given them as a gift, plus the money Niall had taken out of his trust fund the day he turned 18, they'll have enough money to last them five or six months, provided they don't go crazy with it.

Harry's tired, though, and he has a bit of jet lag and all he really wants to do is sleep, because Niall will no doubt be awake at the crack of dawn to go exploring. He settles himself under the covers and turns on his side to face Niall's back. And then he curls himself around Niall and molds himself against Niall's body and Niall kind of melts into him in his sleep – and suddenly Harry isn't worried anymore.

X

They're 15 when Niall asks Harry if he's ever thought about going somewhere.

"Where?" Harry asks.

"Anywhere you wanted to go."

Harry's honest answer is no, because he's always been quite happy where he is. But all he says is no.

"I have," Niall confesses, then. "Sometimes I want to just throw a pin at a map and go wherever it lands."

Harry doesn't know what to say and so he just stares at Niall in silence.

"I mean, I'd take you with me, of course," Niall says. 

And Harry lets out a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding.

X

They're in Washington now, because Niall is practically obsessed with President Barack Obama and he wants see the White House "in person, Harry." And Harry laughs at how excited and giddy Niall is as they stand in line for a tour of the most famous house in the U.S. (This is the same Niall he once took to an Eagles concert in London for Niall's 16th birthday, which Niall didn't stop talking about for months.)

After the tour they find a little diner and have dinner in it and Niall, like he's always managed to do, makes friends with a couple of guys in the next booth over while Harry disappears to the loo. When he comes back, Niall's telling them all about how he's been dreaming about going on a road trip for almost his whole life and how he'd roped his best friend into coming with him, so now they're blowing money like it's their jobs and they're having a great time. And Harry smiles because, hey, Niall's happy which makes Harry happy. And one of the guys in the other booth invites them to a hockey game – “we have two extra tickets, actually, because two of our friends bailed at the last minute" – and Niall, who loves sports of all kinds, turns to Harry, who can hardly even play a steady game of footie back home, all wide-eyed and hopeful and pleading. And who is Harry to say no?

So they find themselves in a cold arena, where there are hundreds of people and tons of food and spirit and one of the guys – Jordan – drags them into the gift shop to buy a couple jerseys.  
Harry has to bite his tongue when Niall is all enthusiastic about it; he doesn't think they should be spending a couple hundred dollars on jerseys they'll never wear again, but Niall thinks they should. And so they do. And it keeps them warm during the game, too, so Harry isn't that bitter about it in the end. 

Harry doesn't really understand hockey. He just doesn't. There are too many rules and too many penalties and he just doesn't get it. But Niall is properly into the game, shouting and cheering and enjoying a couple of beers with the other lads, so Harry does too. 

Jordan asks them if they've ever played hockey before and Harry answers with an honest “no” because he hasn't. And he hasn't ever really planned to either. He cracks a joke about not even being able to play his own home game of football because he's clumsy and uncoordinated and Niall laughs, because it's true. 

The lads all go out for drinks at a bar nearby after the game and despite feeling tired and cranky (because he's tired), Harry agrees to go. He loosens up a bit once he's had a bit of alcohol in him and he's actually starting to enjoy himself – all these American girls are fawning over his "sexy" accent, they're full-on flirting with him and hanging all over him and he forgets about Niall for a minute. But then Niall's grabbing him by the shoulder and whispering in his ear about how he's stepping out for a bit and Harry follows the blond with his gaze as Niall heads out the back door with a dark haired girl on his arm.

Harry doesn't feel much like partying after that, so he waits for Niall to come back and when Niall comes stumbling back into the bar with his hair all mused and his lips all swollen and his clothes all rustled, Harry grabs him and drags him back to their motel. If it were under different circumstances – like, if Harry had been the reason for Niall's fucked-out look – then he'd be incredibly turned on. But all he wants to do now is throw-up.

Niall tells him the next morning that the girl's name was Katy and that he'd just really, really needed to get laid.

X

Niall is 16 when he loses his virginity. To Amy Greene, a girl at their school who's completely smitten by the blond, Irish boy. And up until that point, Harry had to admit he liked her. She was smart, funny, kind-hearted and very, very pretty. And she cared about Niall. It was easy to get along with her and so hanging out with the two of them was easy. 

And then Harry had gone away for the weekend with his mum, her new boyfriend Robin and Gemma. Usually Niall would come along – and vice versa – because they were best friends and both of their mother's thought of the other boy as just another son. But Niall's dad was in town that weekend for a business trip and even though Niall had thrown a fit over it because he didn't want to, both Niall and his brother Greg were forced to spend time with him.

It's the first weekend in almost 10 years that Niall hadn't gone away with Harry’s family for a few days.

Harry has an alright time that weekend, but it doesn't stop him from wishing Niall was there. Nor does it stop him from texting Niall all day Saturday about his day – and about how boring it is without Niall there to wreak havoc on things. Niall stops responding at some point during the night but Harry knows that Niall had gone to a party so he figures that Niall has just misplaced his phone like he always does. 

Niall is the first – and only – person Harry contacts when he gets home and five minutes later Niall walks into his bedroom all smiles and smirks. Harry, jokingly, asks what the hell's wrong with him, claiming that he hadn't been gone that long, and Niall's response isn't at all what he's expecting. 

"I lost my v-card last night."

Harry blinks. And then blinks again. And then gaps, because he doesn't know what to say. "What?"

"Yeah," Niall grins. "I went with Amy to that party, right. And halfway through – I wasn't even that buzzed yet – she wanted to leave so we did. And then, you know... Basically I took her v-card too; an eye for an eye."

"I'm not sure 'an eye for an eye' constitutes trading v-cards," is the only thing Harry can think of to say. His heart bottoms out in his stomach and he turns away from Niall, then, because there's tears burning the backs of his eyes and he doesn't want Niall to know that he's upset. 

"You know what I mean," Niall laughs. "Anyway, it was great, man. Literally, like, the best feeling in the world. I mean, we were both obviously pretty inexperienced – except for whatever I've seen in pornos – but, Jesus, Harry."

Harry swallows hard against the lump in his throat and pushing down the anxiety in his chest as he struggles to compost himself. "That's cool, Niall. Are you, uh, dating now or...?"

"I mean, I think so. Yeah, I hope so. We haven't had the chance to talk about it yet, she's been with her parents all damn day."

"Well I'm sure everything will work itself out, yeah? I mean, she obviously fancies you."

"I know."

"And you? You fancy her too, yeah?"

"I mean, yeah," Niall replies, smiling goofily. "Yeah, I guess I do - definitely do now."

"Then...yeah," Harry mutters.

"You know what that means aye, Haz? ‘Means it's your turn now."

Harry nods in response to Niall's enthusiasm but doesn't tell him that he's not in any rush to lose his. 

Come Monday, Niall and Amy are an item. Two months later they break up and Niall mopes around for about a week before Ellie, a girl in the grade above them, catches his eye. 

Harry doesn't lose his virginity until the weekend before he and Niall are to move to London for University two years later. And the only reason he loses it is because Caroline has always kind of had a thing for him and he really doesn't want to start this new chapter of his life as a virgin. 

Then Niall drags Harry to a freshman party on the Saturday before school starts. Harry doesn't want to go, but Niall says they need to make friends – and they do make friends with Liam, Louis and Zayn and the five of them become inseparable. 

Niall goes home that night with a girl named Barbara.

So Harry brings home a boy named Nick – and, yeah, maybe Harry enjoys Niall's confusion as Nick passes by him in the hallway of their new flat a little bit too much.

X

They don't mean to, but they end up in Memphis. And they're both okay with it because Memphis is all about Elvis Presley and both Niall and Harry are big fans.

They find themselves a motel and spend most of the first day driving around like the tourists they are. While having dinner at a local, family-owned diner, they're told by their waitress that there's a festival going on for Elvis Week starting the following day and that, being fans of Elvis and being tourists all the way from the UK, they should check it out. And for once, Niall isn't the only one excited because Harry can hardly wait.

The following day is spent at this festival where most – if not all – of the town is gathered in the heart of it. There's all sorts of things going on, from your typical apple-bobbing and face-painting to talent shows and Elvis Presley look-a-like contests. Things start to slow down after dinner time, when families are starting to go home because the kids need to go to bed. But they pick up again at 9 o'clock because that's when the beer/bar tent opens – and Niall drags Harry there like a moth to the light. 

Niall, like always, has made a few friends with the locals and has impressed them with his Elvis impersonation voice so much that they've actually nicknamed him Elvis Presley The Second.

The whole festival shuts down at around midnight, but Niall insists that the two of them find some kind of pub to have a few more drinks and Harry is drunk and happy so he agrees wholeheartedly. The bar they wind up in is sort of empty so they manage to sit at the bar counter and Niall begs Harry to do some shots with him. Harry isn't all that big on liquor, but he likes the odd shot sometimes and so they order three of them in a row and down them all within five minutes. 

+

Harry isn't exactly sure how it happens. One minute the bartender is telling them it's last call and Niall orders two more shots for the road before pulling Harry by the hand out into the street and it's like the next minute Niall's pressing him against the door of their motel room, his mouth hot and moist against Harry's. And then they're stumbling through the doorway and Niall's kicking the door closed with his foot and Harry pushes him back against it, reaching behind the blond boy to lock it.

Niall's hands are everywhere – in Harry's hair, up Harry's shirt, cupping Harry through his jeans – and Harry moans wantonly as they both stumble over shoes and the carpet to get to the bed. Niall pushes him onto it and Harry grabs onto him at the last minute, like he's afraid to let too much space fall in between them, to pull Niall with him. Niall lands on top of him with a muffled "oomph" and then a giggle against Harry's lips. 

And then all of a sudden they're shedding clothes and Harry's stroking Niall up and down and Niall's moaning and sucking at Harry's lips and his jaw and his collarbones. And all Harry can think about is Niall and how long he's wanted this and how badly he's dreamed of this. 

Niall is all around him – above him, over him, inside him. And, yeah, Harry's drunk off all the alcohol he's had to drink tonight but, more importantly, he's drunk off of Niall. He's drunk on Niall's moans and his groans and the way he swears when he thrusts in particularly deep and the way he throws his head back when Harry sucks at his skin. He's drunk on the lusty shade of blue in Niall's eyes and the redness that's all over Niall's face and the messiness of Niall's hair from Harry pushing and pulling on it and the sweat that's sticking Niall's fridge to his forehead and sliding down his back and the swollen pinkness of Niall's lips. 

Harry is just lost in Niall and he thinks – vaguely, just before he comes apart and brings Niall with him – that sex has never felt this fucking brilliant.

+

They don't talk about it at all the next day. In fact, Niall is gone when Harry wakes up and he's just about to panic when a freshly-showered and fully-clothed blond boy walks through the front door with a paper bag in his hands.

"Good morning," Niall greets him, grinning as he places the bag on the bedside table next to him. "I was starving so I went out to get breakfast. That's all yours since I already ate mine in the car on the way back."

Harry eats his breakfast in silence, torn between wanting to confront Niall about the night before and pretending like he doesn't even remember; he does, after all, like to sleep in the nude anyway. He also, slightly, feels like he's going to throw up and it's not because of the alcohol. And Niall isn't showing any hints of wanting to talk about it, so Harry ignores the fact that his chest hurts and pretends like it never happened.

In fact, he's so good at pretending, days later, that it's almost as if he had made the whole thing up in his head. Almost.

X

Niall kisses him when they're 13 years old. 

It's the summer before they're to start high school and Harry's terrified. He isn't exactly sure why he's scared, he just is, despite Niall telling him that everything will fine. Niall assures him that his brother Greg said that high school isn't as intimidating as it sounds, says that Greg has one more year left so even if they do come into any trouble that Greg will have their backs. This seems to calm Harry down for a while. 

But then Niall comes over a couple days before the first day of school because Harry had called him in a bit of a panic attack. Admittedly, the second Niall walks through his bedroom door, Harry apologizes for making him come over so quickly after dinner and says it's really not that big of a deal.

But Niall insists that Harry tell him and so he does. "It's just...I've never been kissed before."

Niall shrugs. "Neither have I, it's not a big deal."

"But, Ni, this is high school. We can't go into high school having never been kissed."

"Why not?"

Harry pauses and thinks about it for a second and realizes that Niall has a point. Why can't they? All Harry had thought about when it crossed his mind earlier was that he can't start school again without having been properly kissed but he'd never thought about why.

"Harry, I think you're over reacting," Niall says. "Besides, who's even going to know? And unless you have a girlfriend, who's even going to know that you have been kissed?"

Harry decides Niall has another point; it's not like he'll have to wear some kind of sign that says "have not been kissed" on his first day of school. "Yeah," he sighs, "I guess you're right."

"What if I kissed you? Would that make you feel better?"

Harry blinks, taken aback. "What?"

"I mean, it's just a kiss, right? And this way you won't have to go to school having never been kissed – and maybe it'll take the weirdness out your next first kiss 'cause you'll have already done it. Same goes for me, so it's like getting two birds with one stone."

Harry isn't sure what to say or think. Niall's just basically asked to kiss him and, yeah, Harry's thought about kissing Niall before – wondered what the blond boy's lips would feel like, what they would taste like – but he never thought it would actually happen. Niall's his best friend and best friends don't get to kiss best friends. Do they? But here's Niall, wondering if they should just kiss each other and get it over with – and yes, Harry thinks but can't bring himself to say. Yes. 

And then Niall is coming towards him and Harry's breath catches in his throat and his gaze falls to Niall's pink lips and it's all he can do not to leap across the little space between them and press his lips to Niall's. Harry feels like he might just pass out instead. 

And that's when Niall does it, presses his lips firmly and confidently against Harry's. And Harry's kind of stunned at first, despite having known that it was coming, because he wasn't expecting this. It's cliché, he'll think later, but his knees buckle slightly and his heart races in his chest and fireworks explode behind his eyes and Niall's fingers ignite hot, tiny fires on the back of Harry's neck. Niall's lips are soft and smooth and perfect and Harry kind of loves them.

It doesn't last long before Niall's pulling away, clearing his throat as he pushes a hand through his newly dyed blond hair. And Harry barely has a moment to think before Niall mutters something about having to get home and do his chores. (It isn't until Harry's lying in bed that night that he remembers that it's Thursday and Niall doesn't do his chores until Sunday.)

X

Things begin to change when they get to LA and Harry likes to think that it doesn't have anything to do with what transpired in Memphis – but he has a feeling that it has everything to do Memphis.

They spend the first couple days in an ocean-view motel before Niall sees a flyer for a two bedroom, ocean-side bungalow in a little cafe during breakfast. It's one of those places you can rent for vacations and trips and that and Niall insists that they check it out. "No offense, mate, but I'd really like to sleep in my own bed for a while. Ya know?"

Harry knows, but it doesn't mean he isn't offended. They've been sharing a bed since the day they landed in America, both because it's cheaper than any room with two beds and because they're used to sleeping in the same bed from years of having sleepovers. Quite frankly, Harry isn't all that thrilled about sleeping alone from now on, but he doesn't fight Niall on it. 

The first night in the bungalow – which they've rented out for the next three weeks – is practically torture. Harry can't sleep for shit, because despite the incredibly warm weather and the comfy blankets, he's freezing. He's freezing because the room is too quiet and the bed is too empty and Niall is just too far away for him to sleep. 

It's 2 o'clock in the morning and Harry is staring at the ceiling when he hears the bedroom door open. He snaps his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep, as Niall closes the door behind him and tip-toes across the hardwood floor to the bed. 

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" Harry murmurs tiredly – and this time he doesn't have to pretend because he really is tired. He opens his eyes to see Niall standing on "his" side of the bed; Niall, with sleepy eyes and bed hair wearing only a pair of Harry's pajama pants.

"I can't sleep."

"I thought you wanted your own bed," Harry teases, rolling onto his elbow to face Niall properly.

"I did – I do, I just... Can I just-" he cuts himself off as Harry pulls the covers back for Niall to climb under them. Harry watches as Niall makes himself comfortable, pulling the sheets all the way up to his neck. "Thanks, Haz."

"Of course," Harry whispers.

And, maybe, the last thing Harry hears before he finds sleep is Niall's soft, barely-there snores.

X

They've always been each other's rock, each other's lifeline. They've always just been there for one another, no questions asked. 

That's why when they're 14 and Harry's parents sit him and Gemma down at the dinner table to tell them they're getting a divorce, the only person Harry wants to see is Niall. He doesn't want to see his mother crying because even though "it's for the best" she's still sad and he doesn't want to see his father try to come up with promises they all know he'll never be able to keep and he doesn't want to see Gemma being hysterical. He just wants Niall. 

And so he pushes himself to his feet, the legs of his chair scraping loudly against the hardwood floor, and takes off for the front door. He doesn't even think to put on shoes or a jacket, he just keeps running – running across his and Niall's lawn to Niall's front door. He knocks on the little glass window frantically and seconds later the door swings open and Niall's mum is standing in the front hall. He hears his own mum calling out to him, coming towards the house with a pair of his white converse shoes and his jacket, but he ignores her as he begs for Niall instead. 

And then Niall is there, looking worried and confused and the blond boy gently pushes his mother aside to get to Harry. Harry throws himself into Niall's arms, burying his face into the crook of his neck and grasping desperately at the fabric of his shirt. He gasps, choking on sobs and Niall shushes him softly – and he's vaguely aware of his mum and Niall's mum talking about him but he doesn't care because Niall's hugging him and pulling him into the house at the same time. 

They go upstairs and Niall's own family gives them privacy. Harry curls himself all around Niall and cries uncontrollably into Niall's chest and Niall whispers nothing's and everything's into his ear. Niall may not remember what it's like to go through a divorce because he was only five when his own parents did it, but he knows what it's like to live with his parents being divorced and so he promises Harry that everything is going to be okay, that things will get better. And Harry believes him because it's Niall.

It takes two hours for Harry stop crying before they venture down to the kitchen to get some snacks. Harry is quiet and quite embarrassed when Maura walks into the kitchen behind them, but then she gives him the kind of hug only a mother could and tells him that he can stay as long as he'd like – and also that his mum has brought him some pajamas and a change of clothes for tomorrow. 

They build a blanket-pillow fort when they get back to Niall's bedroom and watch old, crappy movies.

"You know," Niall starts when the credits of the last movie begin to roll, "I know this is probably a bad time, and I know how hard it's going to be for you but – on the bright side, if there is one – you'll kind of get two of everything now. Two birthdays, two Christmases... My dad isn't very good at the whole birthday/Christmas thing, but he always sends me money instead so that's fine, but...for you it just means you get to do everything twice now."

Harry nods, because Niall's right. (And Niall's also right about his father not being very good at the birthday/Christmas thing – because Harry can't even remember the last time Niall saw his father for either of them.) "I just...I just wish it didn't have to be like that," Harry whispers. "I'm perfectly happy with just having one of everything."

Niall sighs. "I know, Haz. I know."

X

Niall begins to really like LA. He likes the beaches and the sand and the water. He likes the weather and he likes the fact that it's perfectly acceptable for girls to walk around in bikinis all day – and he likes the people too, because they're friendly and cool. Never mind the fact that Niall can make friends with just about anyone. 

It's their fifth morning there when Harry wakes up alone again. He searches for Niall in the house and has a mini sort of heart attack when he can't find the blond boy before going back to the bedroom to get his phone. He's just about to press the button that would call Niall when he catches a glimpse of bright hair against blue water and he realizes, with relief, that it's Niall sitting outside on the beach. 

Harry trudges through the sand, which is warm and feels kind of nice between his toes and when he gets to where Niall is, he drops down into the sand and bends his legs to rest his elbows on his knees. "Hey," he murmurs, squinting in the glare of the bright sun beating down on them. 

"Hey."

"What are you doing?"

"I woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep so I went for a run," Niall shrugs. 

"Have you had anything to eat?"

"Not yet, no." And then, as if on cue, Niall's stomach grumbles which sends both of them into a small for of giggles.

"C'mon," Harry says, pushing himself to his feet and then holding his hand out to help Niall. "I'll make us something to eat."

Niall grins and takes Harry's hand – and Harry pulls the blond boy to his feet – as he teases Harry about how he should've gone to culinary school instead of business. 

Harry notices, as he's face to face with Niall now, that Niall's nose is a bit red. "We need to get you some screen, Irish. The sun here isn't good for your ghostly-pale skin."

"But that's why the sun is good!" Niall insists. "I've never had a tan before, so this is good."

And Harry shakes his head because, yeah, getting a tan was on Niall's bucket list.

+

Niall kind of makes a habit of it now, sitting on the beach in the mornings. And Harry finds himself waking up alone every day for the following four days after. 

Niall has a fascination with the ocean, Harry comes to realize quite quickly, which is funny because Niall's eyes look like the ocean and Harry is obsessed with Niall's eyes. He doesn't tell him that, of course, not in the way Niall gushes about the ocean. 

On the ninth morning, Harry goes out to fetch Niall for breakfast – which has come to be routine now – except Niall isn't there. Harry looks up and down beach and when he doesn't find that familiar head of blond hair, he races back into the house to get his phone. And maybe he's being paranoid by being so worried about him all the time but this is Niall and they're in a strange – albeit beautiful place – and Niall can be naive sometimes so, really, he has every right to be a little bit worried. Immediately after he sends a text message to Niall, wondering where the hell he is, a ding sounds from across the bedroom and when Harry looks up he sees Niall's phone sitting on the bedside table. 

Then, as if on cue, Harry hears the front door open and he whirls around so quickly his head spins a bit before he's marching down the hall. Niall's – and someone else's – laughter fills the house and Harry's stomach kind of drops at the sound of it. Who's Niall with? Why? 

The answer comes in the form of a good-looking boy with brown hair and brown eyes and lightly sun-kissed skin standing next to Niall in the front hall. The boy is rather beautiful and kind of has a nice smile, but Harry doesn't care about that boy because he's mad at the boy he does care about. 

And Niall seems to pick up on it the second their gazes lock from across the room because he shifts uncomfortably and rubs the back of his neck. "Uh, hey, Harry."

"Where the hell have you been?" Harry snaps, forgetting about the other boy for just a moment. "And why the hell did you leave your phone here? I wake up and I make breakfast and you're nowhere to be found and you didn't even bring your fucking phone with you!"

"I – Harry, I left a note," Niall tells him. "I left it on the fridge."

Harry scoffs and disappears into the kitchen and sure enough there's a note, written in Niall's neat printing, stuck to the fridge door. He sighs and rips it off the door before crumpling it in his hand and tossing it onto the counter next to two plates of French toast and fruit salad.

"And this is why I stuck it to the fridge," Niall says, walking into the kitchen behind him. "I didn't want you to go through the trouble of cooking."

"And this is why you don't just take off without telling me," Harry snaps, ignoring the fact that maybe he's overreacting a bit. He whirls around to face Niall and the brown haired boy is there too. "Where the hell did you even go? And who's he?"

"Harry, this is Justin – he's from Canada. Justin, this is Harry."

Harry hates the way Niall looks at Justin, then.

"Are you guys, like, brothers or something?" The boy named Justin asks. 

And Harry wants to scream – because brothers? He wants to scream and yell and tell Justin that no, they aren't brothers and yes, they've fucked each other-

"Nah, we're just friends," Niall replies. 

Harry blinks, taken aback. Just friends? Just friends? Never mind the fact that they've been best friends for 14 years, have been sharing a bed the last five months and have crossed the friendship line at least once. 

"Look, Harry, I ran into Justin on the beach – like, literally ran into him – and then I felt bad so I told him I'd buy him breakfast," Niall says. "Plus he wanted to know what I was doing here, so I told him about the road trip. And then he said he's always wanted to know what the inside of this place looks like, so-"

"So you just brought him back here," Harry snaps.

"I – yeah. Yeah, I did – what's your problem, Harry? I'm sorry I didn't tell you that I left but it's not my fault you didn't see the note," Niall argues. "You have a habit of not seeing things that are right in front of you and that's not my problem."

Harry glares at Niall and then at the boy – Justin – standing behind him and then shakes his head. "I'm not the only one who doesn't see what's right in front of him, Niall," he mutters. And then he's pushing past Niall – and Justin – and Niall's calling after him, telling him he should eat something and Harry's calling back that he isn't hungry. And then the front door slams behind him and Harry climbs into the rental car and he doesn't know where he's going but he doesn't care either.

X

Louis notices three months after they meet him. 

They're at a pub just a few blocks away from campus and Harry's well into his second beer – but Niall's well into his fifth. Harry's sitting at the table they'd chosen a couple hours earlier, watching Niall act like a goof with Liam and Zayn at the pool tables. Niall pretends to punch Liam in the face before he bursts out laughing and the sound resounds around the bar, which makes Harry smile to himself.

Louis slides into the booth next to him, nursing a beer in his hands. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

Harry blinks, tearing his gaze away from Niall to eye the quirky boy next to him. "W-what?

Louis looks him straight in the eye. "Niall. You're in love with him."

Harry opens his mouth to deny it but no sound comes out.

"Relax, mate. I won't tell him," Louis says, clapping him on the shoulder. "Unless you want me to-"

"No!" Harry shouts drastically. And then he's blushing and sinking back into the booth like he's trying to disappear. 

"How long have you been in love with him?"

Harry shrugs, shifting uncomfortably in his spot because he's never told anyone before and nobody's ever noticed before. "I guess...for as long as I've known him."

"Haven't you been friends for like 10 years or something stupid like that?"

"Eleven," Harry corrects. 

Louis gaps at him. "You've been in love with that boy for 11 years and you've never told him?"

"He's never noticed and we've been best friends for 11 years," Harry points out.

"Why haven't you told him?"

Harry scoffs. "What am I supposed to say? 'Hey, Ni, I know you're straight and everything but I'm kind of completely in love with you. Oh, and remember that time you kissed me? Yeah, that's when I knew for sure-'"

"He kissed you?" Louis hisses – and Harry lurches forward to clamp his hands over Louis mouth. Louis groans, fighting to peel Harry's hand away. "Sorry, I'm sorry, but – what the hell!"

"We were 13, it wasn't a big deal-"

"Obviously it was!"

Harry sighs, "look, it's fine, Louis, okay? I'm used to it, I'm fine."

"You're not though, Harry. I see the way you look at him sometimes and it's like your heart is literally breaking."

Harry shrugs, glancing across the pub towards Niall, who's pretending to sing the song that's on the radio into the pool cue. He looks back at Louis, who had also been looking at Niall – and Liam and Zayn – and is now looking back at Harry with a weak kind of smile. "How do you know? How did you find out – how can you know after only knowing me for three months but Niall doesn't have a clue?"

Louis shrugs, taking a sip of his beer. "I think...Harry, I just think Niall really is that naive about it. Plus, I think it's easier for an outsider to see it because, I mean – what I mean is-" he cuts himself off, rolling his eyes at himself as he leans forward, closer to Harry. "What I'm trying to say is that I've seen the way you look at him because I've watched you two together – as creepy as that may sound – and I've seen the way you see him when he isn't looking. And the thing is, Harry, is that he isn't looking and that's why he doesn't know, because he's just never seen the way you look at him."

Harry nods because, yeah, Louis' silly and he has hard time being serious most of the time but the boy has a point.

"Hey, love birds!" Niall shouts, throwing himself into the booth next to Harry as Liam and Zayn slide in on the other side with Louis. 

"I – we're not-" Harry stutters. 

Niall barks out a laugh. "I'm kidding, Haz." He ruffles Harry's curls before slinging his arm around Harry's shoulders and Harry's breath catches in his throat. "Oi, Lou, are Eleanor and the girls still coming or what?"

Louis continues to look at Harry for a moment before looks back at Niall. "Yeah, mate, they're on their way.” 

X

Justin's a nice guy, it's just that Harry still doesn't like him. More specifically, he doesn't like how much Niall talks about him – “Justin's gonna teach me how to surf, Haz, isn't that cool?" "Justin said there's a really cool restaurant a few blocks that way, says we should check it some time." – or how much time Niall's starting to spend with him. Every day it's either Justin coming over or Niall going out with Justin and yeah, maybe Niall invites Harry to tag along but he has a feeling he'll feel like more like a third wheel to their little bro-dates than anything.

Harry had met Kendall the day Niall brought Justin home. He'd been sitting inside one of the many Starbucks and she'd asked him if the seat on the couch next to him was taken – as it was the only seat open – and of course he'd said no. And then she's started talking to him about his accent and where he was from and what he was doing here in LA – and his honest answer was that he wasn't even sure anymore. They'd talked for a few hours, which is a helluva lot longer than he's talked to anyone he's just met, and it felt easy and it felt free, so when she gave him her number he took it.

They have coffee four more times over the course of the following four days and on the 15th day in LA Harry and Kendall decide to upgrade coffee to dinner. It also turns out to be the day that Niall suggests they rent the house for a couple more weeks and, surprising even himself, Harry agrees.

Harry's getting himself a snack when Niall and Justin come bounding in the back door from the beach wearing swimming trunks and dripping water all over the floor. And Harry has to ignore the fluttering of his heart and tightness in his jeans at the way the trunks hang low on Niall's thin hips.

"Seriously, Harry, you need get out in the water," Niall tells him, running a hand through his wet hair.

"I've been in the water," Harry points out.

"I mean to surf, Haz. You should learn how to surf – it's amazing!"

"I can hardly play football on solid ground, Ni. What makes you think I'd be able to surf with all those waves?"

Niall smirks. "Good point. You'd probably drown."

"Probably," Harry laughs. 

Harry's phone buzzes on the counter and they have this game where if either of their phones is left unattended when someone calls or texts then the other is allowed to answer – and say whatever they want – just as long as they get to it first. Both Harry and Niall dive for the phone and Justin has to jump out of the way to avoid being a part of the collision and both Harry and Niall tumble towards the ground. 

Niall ends up with Harry's phone and he's laughing and smiling as he sits up to answer it and just as he's about to read the received message out loud his smile turns into a frown and his brows furrow in confusion. "Who's Kendall?"

Harry shrugs, pushing himself up to sit with his back against the cupboards under the counter. "Just I girl I met the other day."

"Who is she though?"

"I dunno, she's just fun and down to earth and she's showing me around LA a bit."

Niall nods, pushing himself to his feet before tossing the phone into Harry's lap. "She wants to know what time you're picking her up for dinner and if she should dress casual or sexy, with a winky face,” he mutters. “Have fun."

Harry watches Niall storm out of the room and down the hall to "his" room in confusion. Because what the hell was that about? He looks up at Justin, who holds his hand out to help him out and he takes it. He thinks about going to confront Niall, but decides against it because he hasn't even done anything wrong.

X

They're both 14 years old when they get into their first, real fight. Niall's just joined the football team at school and all his free time is spent either practicing or playing or hanging out with the boys on the team and since Harry doesn't have a single athletic bone in his body he's left out.

Harry has quite a few friends too, but none as close or as good as Niall and Harry misses him. He hasn't got to see Niall outside of school in weeks and he just misses having Niall around – and Niall misses him too, or so he says – and so they make plans to spend the whole weekend together. 

Niall's supposed to meet him outside near the school sign and they're going to walk home together and order pizza and watch movies and leave their homework until the very last minute on Sunday so they have to cram. But Niall doesn't show and Harry waits for half an hour until his stomach begins to growl and he decides to go home. 

Friday comes and goes and then Saturday comes and Niall texts him, asking him if he wants to see a movie with some of the lads from the team but Harry doesn't respond. Then Sunday comes and Niall texts him again, asking him if wants to study together but, again, Harry doesn't respond. 

Harry doesn't see Niall until Monday morning at the bus stop – and by the look on Niall’s face, the boy is equal parts angry and confused.

"Why are you avoiding me?" – is the first thing out of Niall's mouth.

"The fact that you have to ask me that just proves that I'm right."

"Right about what? What the hell is your problem, Harry?"

Harry turns to glare at the blond boy and realizes he's never been so, incredibly angry with him before. "You stood me up."

Niall scoffs. "What the hell are you even talking about? You're the avoiding me for no-" he cuts himself off, then, and his eyes nearly pop out of his head as realization dawns on him. "Shit, Harry, I – I completely forgot, I'm so sorry. It's just that the lads wanted to have an unofficial practice and then we went out for dinner I forgot that we had plans so I just-"

"That's just it, Niall! Everything is all about the team and the lads and you never have time for anyone else anymore – especially me! You promised, Niall – you promised me that we would spend the weekend together and you just forgot."

"Well I'm sorry that I'm busy, Harry, but I can't exactly help that now can I?”

Harry's gaze narrows at the blond boy as he takes a step back. "Well then maybe you shouldn't make promises you can't keep."

"Fine," Niall snaps.

"Fine."

"You know, you're not my only friend, Harry."

Harry blinks like he's just been slapped in the face. And then he squares his shoulders and raises his chin. "And you're not my only friend." And then all of a sudden his feet are carrying him down the street and away from the bus stop and Niall's calling after him. Harry ignores him because he's got a point to prove.

They don't speak for the next four days and Harry's beginning to think it's been the longest week of his life. 

During his last period on Friday, however, Niall texts him.

I told the boys I'd practice with them after school, but can we please talk after

Harry doesn't answer him but after the last bell's rung, once he's gone to his locker to get his stuff, he goes straight to the football field. He's walking towards the stands when Niall notices him and waves dramatically and, yeah, maybe Harry laughs a bit. 

He sits on the bottom bench, his nap sack on the ground between his legs and he's so caught up in Niall – and the way his jersey fits his form perfectly and the way he makes running around with the ball between his feet look so easy – that he doesn't hear the "heads up" coming from the field. The ball hits him in the side of the face and his vision goes all black for a minute as he falls off the bench and onto the ground. 

"HARRY!"

When he opens his eyes again Niall's face is the first thing he sees and his voice is the first thing he hears. And then he sees other faces and hears other voices asking him if he's okay and apologizing – and then Niall's helping him to his feet and they're leaving together. 

Harry rubs at his head for what feels like the hundredth time as they walk slowly down the street and he looks sideways at Niall, who's watching him intently with a guilty kind of look in his eyes. "You didn't have to leave early, you know. I could've stayed."

"It's not a big deal," Niall replies.

Silence falls between them again and then all of a sudden Niall stops walking and reaches out to grab Harry's arm, forcing him to a stop. "Okay, look, I'm sorry," Niall says, looking Harry directly in the eye. "And I hate that you're mad at me and I hate that we haven't been talking all week and I miss you, Harry. I just...I really want these guys to like me, Haz, because they're all older and more experienced than me and I just... I know I haven't been making any time for you – but I will, I promise. You're my best friend, Haz and you always will be and that's a promise I know I can keep."

Harry stares at him for a minute before throwing himself at the blond and locking his arms around Niall's neck. Niall buries his face into Harry's neck and that's when Harry knows that they'll always be okay.

X

They don't talk about Kendall and they don't talk about Justin. Niall pays the rent for an additional two weeks and Harry has to try really, really hard not to worry about the money they're quickly running out of. 

Kendall brings them to a couple parties and Justin – and Niall – manage to get him into the ocean and on a surfboard and Harry has fun, despite the fact that he's pretty sure he's swallowed half the ocean already. 

And things are good. Things are kind of great, even. 

But then they aren't. 

X

It's a Thursday afternoon and Harry brings Kendall over with the promise of his famous ice cream parfait – which isn't actually famous, he just says that because Niall loves them. They walk into the house and are welcomed to sound of music blaring from Niall's room, because Niall can never listen to music at a normal volume level.

"He likes his music," Kendall comments, kicking off her shoes.

"That he does."

"Now, about that parfait you promised me!"

Harry grins. "I'm just gonna ask Niall if he wants one; he gets mad when I make them and don't make him one."

Kendall nods and follows him down the hall.

The Eagles are playing from inside the room and Harry smiles, remembering the concert he took Niall too all those years ago and he starts talking before his hand even touches the doorknob. "Hey, Ni? Kendall and I are gonna make parfaits, do you wa-" he cuts himself off as the door opens and his steps falter in the doorway at the sight before him. 

Because there's Niall, lying naked on the bed with a boxer-clad Justin between his legs. Niall's cheeks are red and his hair's a mess as he scrambles to find his boxers, cursing and accidentally shoving Justin onto the floor. And Harry feels like he's going to be sick – like he's literally going to throw up all over the place – and his vision is blurry and dizzy.

"Jesus, Harry," Niall's muttering from somewhere in front of him.

And Kendall keeps muttering "oh my God, oh my God" over and over again, hiding behind Harry’s broad shoulders. 

"Harry, listen, I can explain-"

"I have to go," Harry mutters and he turns, tripping over his own feet. He throws a hand out to brace himself against the wall and Kendall tries to reach out for him but he shrugs her off because he needs to go. He needs to leave, like, now. 

"Harry, wait," Niall calls after him, following him down the hallway as he pulls on a pair sweatpants. He reaches for Harry and Harry pulls his arms back violently. 

"Don't touch me!" Harry shouts before gasping in a breath with his hand to his chest because it feels like his lungs are collapsing. He can't breathe and unshed tears in his eyes are making it hard to see and it's like his heart is literally breaking in his chest. "Don't fucking touch me, Niall."

Niall blinks, looking taken aback and hurt. "H-Harry-"

"I have to go," he says again and he looks behind Niall at Kendall, who nods and goes into the front hall to get her shoes. 

"Haz, please," Niall begs. 

Harry stares at him for a minute and then the sound of footsteps from behind Niall forces his gaze upwards and he sees Justin standing in the hallway looking confused and disheveled and embarrassed. "I can't," he whispers, shaking his head. And then he's following Kendall towards her car, struggling to hold everything in.

X

Amy Greene breaks Niall's heart two months after they start going out because she finds out that this older, popular kid named Sean likes her. 

Niall doesn't show up at the bus stop one morning and he isn't in first period – and he sends Niall a text with no response – but it isn't until lunch time that Harry hears the rumor and then sees Amy with Sean. Amy makes eye contact with him and she looks guilty for minute, but then Harry forgets his lunch on the table and leaves. And he doesn't care that the school will call his mum to say he didn't go to his afternoon classes because he knows Niall is upset and he doesn't know why Niall didn't tell him.

Niall doesn't open the front door, which isn't a surprise because Niall isn't even supposed to be at home, so he walks around the back of the house to climb the trellis that will get him onto the small roof outside Niall's bedroom window. He's done it enough times that it takes almost no effort at all and the window's always unlocked, for moments just like this, so Harry lets himself in.

Niall isn't there but Harry can hear him in the bathroom down the hall so he sits on the bed and waits. Niall freezes when he walks into the room and sees Harry sitting there. His eyes are puffy and red from crying and cheeks look like they're stained with tears and his bottom lip quivers with a threatening fresh batch. 

"Ni," Harry sighs.

And that’s when Niall starts to cry again and Harry flies across the room so fast and gathers Niall into his arms. Niall sobs loud and ugly and he clutches onto Harry's shoulders for dear life and all Harry can do is rub the blond boy's back and thread his fingers through his hair.

Harry pulls Niall towards the bed and allows the blond boy to bury himself into Harry's chest. "Why didn't you tell me, Ni? You can tell me anything, you know that."

"I just...I just didn't want to talk about it at all, ya know?" He wanted to hide, is what he actually means.

Harry looks down at Niall's face; his damp eyelashes, his blotchy cheeks, his pink lips. And all Harry wants to do is kiss it all better.

X

Harry hides himself away at Kendall's family's house for the next three days because he can't bring himself to see Niall and he ignores Niall's calls and texts because he can't bring himself to speak to Niall either.

Kendall asks him about it and Harry tells her everything because there's no point in lying about it considering she was there. But other than that, Harry doesn't talk about it. 

Until the fourth day, which is when Louis calls him. Actually, Louis calls him and leaves six messages demanding Harry to "PICK UP THE PHONE HAROLD, BEFORE I FLY TO LA AND DO IT FOR YOU." Harry picks up the seventh time and Louis breathes a sigh of relief. 

"Thank fuck, Harry. Jesus. Niall called me in a fucking panic just now because he hasn't seen or heard from you in four days – where the hell are you?!"

"I'm at Kendall's."

"That's another thing, who the fuck is Kendall?"

Harry sighs. "She's just a friend..."

Silence falls between them as Louis sighs into the receiver. "Niall told me what happened. I'm so sorry, Harry."

Harry doesn't say anything because he doesn't know what to say. Thanks?

"He said you weren't supposed to see that."

"Yeah, well, I did. So..."

"Talk to me."

And this is when Harry starts to cry again. He lets out a deep, shaky breath and sniffs back tears and, God, every time he thinks about it all he sees in his head is Justin and Niall – and Niall and Justin. "I just... It was so much easier to know that he didn't feel the same way because he couldn't because he was straight, but he isn't – he's not very straight, Lou. He just doesn't love me."

"He loves you, Harry. He just doesn't love you the way you want him to."

"It hurts so much," Harry breathes shakily. "'s why I haven't gone back... Plus, with the way I reacted...he knows, Lou."

"Harry," Louis sighs. "I can assure you that he-it doesn't matter to him."

"That makes me feel loads better," Harry says sarcastically.

"You know what I mean, Harry. He's just worried about you."

"I don't...Lou, I don't know what to do," Harry breathes. 

"Just...Harry you just need to tell him that you're in love with him; that you've been in love with him for as long as you can remember."

"I...I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just...I just can't, Lou. And I can't stay there, I just-"

"Then come home, Harry. Just come home. You and I both know that the only reason you went there is because of Niall, so just come home already."

Harry hesitates for a moment. "But what about Niall?"

"Stop worrying about Niall, okay. Stop thinking about Niall and what Niall needs and what Niall wants and focus on what you need right now. You need to come home."

"I don't even have any money, Louis," Harry says, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. "I mean, I have a little bit, but not nearly enough for a plane ticket home. And what if Niall runs out of money and-"

"If Niall runs out of money he'll just use his credit card, he's already told you that," Louis reminds him. "Look, I'll send you the money for a plane ticket and you can pay me back whenever, I don't care. Just...you can't continue to do this to yourself, Harry. It isn't healthy."

Harry pauses before his response comes in a shaky, breathy whisper. "Okay."

X

Harry's kind of massively afraid and nervous and sick to his stomach as he unlocks the front door to the rented bungalow. The car isn't in the driveway, so he knows that Niall isn't there but he's still scared as he pushes the door open. 

The house is incredibly quiet and he just knows that Niall isn't here. He has a bitter, fleeting thought that Niall is probably with Justin before he pushes the thought back and swallows around the lump in his throat as he goes straight to his room. Perhaps it's wrong to begin packing his things and hope that he can leave again before Niall gets back from wherever he is – he'd write a note, of course – but he can't help it. He's not sure he's ready to actually see Niall just yet.

He manages to pack all of his clothes – including the ones he bought with Kendall a couple days ago because he didn't want to come back to get them – into his one duffle bag and he's just walking into the kitchen to put the keys to the house and the car on the counter when the front door opens. His breath catches in his throat and his heartbeat speeds up in his chest as Niall walks distractedly into the kitchen. Harry looks at Niall, whose head is down, and he loses the ability to think about anything other than the fact that Niall is fucking beautiful. 

Niall notices Harry at the last minute and his steps falter as he comes to a halt in the middle of the kitchen. Harry can't do anything but stare at the blond boy in front of him, watching emotion after emotion flicker in his eyes and then disappear before anger flickers and stays. And Niall is closing the gap between him, raising his arms, and Harry thinks Niall's going to hug him so he takes an instinctive step back – and then Niall pushes him. Niall's shorter than Harry by a couple of inches, but he's stalkier and firmer and stronger and the force in Niall's anger sends him stumbling backwards.

Harry sputters. "Wha-"

"You're an asshole, Harry Styles!" Niall shouts and shoves him again. "You fucking asshole! What the fuck is wrong with you! How many times do I have to beg you to at least tell me where you are, huh?! I just spent the last four and a half fucking days worrying about you and looking for you and wondering if you were even still alive!"

Harry blinks and stares at Niall incredulously, because what the fuck? 

"God, Harry," Niall mutters, pushing his hands through his hair as he turns and starts to shift around on his feet. "You don't just take off like that in a place like this, a place you don't even know."

Harry continues to stare at Niall, both of them standing awkwardly and uncertainly across from one another, because he doesn't trust his words.

"Louis told me you were with Kendall."

Harry nods.

"Why couldn't you just tell me that?"

"I didn't want to talk."

"But you talked to Louis? You talked to Louis and not me..."

Harry shrugs. 

Niall sighs, looking a bit betrayed. "I thought...Harry I thought we told each other everything-"

"Yeah well so did I," Harry snaps defensively.

Niall blinks, like he knows exactly what Harry means, and then he shrinks back. "I didn't sleep with him..."

"It doesn't matter, Niall, you were going to! And you're not even supposed to be-" Harry cuts himself off, choking inwardly on the word.

"Not supposed to be what? Gay? Bi? I think we both know that I'm at least a little gay after what happened in Memphis-"

"Oh, so you do remember – you just chose to ignore it, just forget about it like one of your other one night stands."

"Of course I didn't forget about it."

"Could've fooled me," Harry mutters.

"What was I supposed to do, Harry?!" Niall shouts, pushing his hands through his hair and tugging on the ends.

"I dunno, Niall, talk to me about it? I'm not just a one night stand, I'm your fucking best friend-"

"Exactly! Exactly – you're my best friend and maybe I just didn't know what to say!"

Harry takes a deep, shaky breath as he places his hands on his hips and shifts uncomfortably on his feet. "Whatever, Niall... It's done; it's over-"

"Except that it isn't, Harry. It's not over."

"Yeah, it is – how many people have you slept with since Memphis, Niall? Huh?”

"Fuck you – I'm not the only one who's been with other people, Harry! You have too!" Niall shouts, pointing an accusatory finger against Harry's chest.

"Only because you've always been with other people! I didn't even – I wasn't even-"

Niall takes a step back, looking offended and hurt. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Harry sighs, running a shaky hand through his curls. He hadn't wanted to come here, to bring this up, but here it is: unavoidable. "You-you always find someone, Niall. You've always found someone else, so I-"

"So you're blaming me – is that what you're...? You're saying the only reason you ever hooked up with someone is because I did it first? Is that..?"

"I-"

"Well you know what, Harry? Maybe I've been a slut, but you..." Niall trails off, looking down at his feet as he swallows hard. 

"I what, Niall? C'mon, spit it out-"

"You're just as bad, if not worse!” Niall shouts. “At least I didn't go around giving it out to people just because-"

"Because what?! Because the boy I'm in love with is handing it out on a fucking silver platter?! How is that any worse than-"

"Because at least I sleep with people I want to sleep with – have a connection with, but you'll just sleep with any-"

Harry looks stunned, flinches as though Niall's just slapped him in the face. Only the words sting his heart more than any amount of physical pain. "Nice, Niall," he whispers.

"Wait – no, Harry," Niall murmurs, jerking forward to reach out for him. The material of Harry's shirt slips through his fingers as he turns away. "Please, Haz, I didn't mean it like that-"

"Whatever. I have to go," Harry mutters, grabbing his bag off the floor before walking past Niall towards the front door. 

Niall's eyes widen in utter shock and fear and it's like he's only just seen the bag that's been there the whole time. "No, Harry – Harry! Harry, where are you going?"

"I'm going home, Niall," Harry says, turning slightly to look at the blond boy looking confused and disappointed and guilty. "I can't...do this anymore. I'm going home."

"Wh-what about me? Harry-"

"You'll figure it out; you always do. Just let me know when you do, yeah?"

And then Harry's walking out the door and he's sniffing back tears, shaky hands reaching into his pocket to call Kendall. He's well aware that Niall's watching him walk away and he has to force himself not to look back.

X

It takes another four days for Harry to actually get home because the minute he lands in London he drives up to Holmes Chapel to see his mum. He cries the second her arms wrap around him and cries the whole first day he's there. Because he's sad and he's heartbroken and he just left Niall in LA and what if Niall hates him now? What if Niall never talks to him again? What if he's lost Niall for good?

He spends the whole second day watching movies on the sofa with Gemma and eating his mum's homemade meals.

He spends most of the third day meeting up with old friends for coffee and lunch and then dinner before spending his last night with his mum.

He leaves the next morning and spends a large amount of the day driving back to London, dreading the moment he has to walk across the threshold and into the cold, empty space of his and Niall's flat. Except when he gets to the door he can hear the sound of the TV playing from inside the flat and in a moment of panic he searches for something to arm himself. The only thing he has is his duffle bag, so he holds it up high as he turns the knob and pushes the door open. He's one and a half seconds away from screaming at whoever's inside only to lose his voice the second he sees the blond hair and blue eyes of the boy sitting on the sofa in his pajamas. 

"N-Niall..."

Niall raises his eyebrows as he reaches for the remote to turn off the TV. "What are you gonna do, beat me to death with that duffle bag?"

Harry blinks, and then remembers how he's holding the duffle bag and drops his arm back down to his side. "I...what are you doing here?"

"You look like you need caffeine, I'll make you a coffee," Niall says, disappearing into the kitchen. "Do you want your usual plain shit? Or, I bought some kind of fancy latte stuff, so-"

"Niall-"

"Also, I'm gonna start a load of laundry later, do you want me to throw your stuff in too?"

"I washed it at my mum's – but, Niall-"

"How is she? Is she okay?"

"Would you just stop!" Harry yells suddenly, startling Niall into stopping everything. "Just...what are you doing here?" he asks again.

"I needed to come home."

"How long have you been back?"

Niall shrugs. "Couple days..."

"I – why didn't you tell me? I would've-"

"I figured if you weren't here you were with your family anyway and I didn't want to... Besides, it was gonna be a surprise. So, surprise!"

Harry shakes his head, confused. "I don't understand, Niall. What happened to never leaving LA? To living there forever?"

Niall licks his lips and shrugs again. "It didn't seem like such a good idea anymore after you...left."

"Niall-"

"Just – Harry, just put your stuff away and I'll make you a coffee and then we'll talk, okay?" Niall pleads.

Harry does as he's told and stays in his room for a few minutes longer than necessary because his hands are shaking and the butterflies in his stomach are alive. When he walks back into the living room, Niall's sitting on the sofa with two mugs in front of him on the coffee table. "Thanks," he murmurs, gesturing to the steaming mug Niall pushes gently across the table.

Niall motions for him to sit down but Harry shakes his head; Harry's too jittery and nervous to sit still like Niall. Harry looks down at him expectantly and Niall sighs. "I don't...I don't know how to do this," he admits. 

"Do what?" Harry asks and his voice comes out no louder than a whisper. 

"First I just – I need to know how long it's been."

"How long what's been?" Harry asks, although he's pretty sure he knows what it means. 

Niall pushes himself to his feet then, looking Harry directly in the eye. "How long have you been in love with me?"

Harry blinks, staring at Niall in a calm sort of disbelief. He's always known that Niall just didn't know, but now this is Niall proving it and it...it kind of hurts. "You've honestly never known?"

Niall shakes his head. 

"How?" Harry demands – and suddenly he feels defensive. "How could you not have known? I...it's always been you, Niall. How could you never have seen that?!"

"How could I have?!” Niall counters. “You – people fawned over you all the time, Harry! And you were such a huge flirt and you loved it – how was I supposed to know?"

Harry blinks, turning away. "Nevermind-"

"No, tell me," Niall says harshly, grabbing onto Harry's sleeve to stop him. "Stop running away from me and just tell me. For once in your life, just-"

"Why does it even matter, Niall?!” Harry shouts, whirling around to face the boy holding onto him. Tears are swimming in his eyes and he can feel his cheeks burning up. “Why does it matter how long it's been? Why does it matter why you never noticed? Why does it matter that every time you had your heart broken in high school I was there and I let you cry on my shoulder and I held you until you fell asleep because I was scared you were gonna fall apart? Why does it matter that you never saw me even though I was literally right in front of you the whole time?" He's looking at Niall and he's breathing hard and heavy and his heart is beating wildly in his chest and the butterflies in his stomach are making him feel sick.

Niall furrows his eyebrows, staring at Harry thoughtfully. "I saw you, Harry."

"Jesus Christ, Niall, I travelled across an ocean just so I could be with you every day and-" Harry cuts himself off, blinking furiously in confusion as Niall's words finally hit him. "What?"

Niall licks his lips. "I saw you, I just...I just didn't think that's what it was at first. And then it was and I just ignored it."

"What?" Harry sputters again. 

"I always chose you, Harry. I don't know how many times they would tell me it was them or you – because they were jealous of you – and I always chose you. You were always the one I couldn't lose, Haz – that's...that's why I asked you to come with me to America. Because out of everyone in my life it was you I knew I wouldn't be able to say goodbye to."

Harry looks confused and stunned and sort of like he's going to pass out so he grabs onto the half wall that separates the living room from the kitchen to hold himself up.

"And yeah, I suck," Niall continues, despite the fact that Harry is no longer looking at him. "Because I was seeing all kinds of different people and ignoring my own feelings and not even seeing yours because while I was hooking up with someone so were you. And I just...I never thought about it until the other night.

"I suck because it took you leaving me for me to figure out that it's always been you for me too."

Harry takes a step back when Niall takes a step towards him, shaking his head. "You can't – you can't say stuff like that to me if you don't mean it, Niall."

"I mean it, Haz. I promise, I mean it. I was just...I was in denial," the blond boy admits softly. "And I've spent...every day since we were 13 – every day since I kissed you – running away from these feelings I had because I was scared and I've spent so many years trying to force my feelings into other relationships – and yeah, most of them were genuine relationships with genuine feelings but they were kind of misplaced, you know? I was just so afraid of losing you because I didn't know you felt it too and – you were my best friend, Harry, and I couldn't ruin that. I had myself convinced for years that's just the way it was with us being so close and-"

Harry cuts him off because there's something he needs to know before this goes any further. "What happened in Memphis?"

"W-what?"

"What happened, Niall?" Harry pressing, searching Niall's eyes desperately for an answer. "Why-"

Niall shrugs. "I gave in."

"What happened the next morning?"

Niall pauses and reaches out to wipe a tear that Harry didn't even know had fallen from his cheek. "I wish I could tell you, I just... I was confused. You were the first guy I'd ever – and I didn't know what else to do."

"What about Justin?"

Niall looks down, then, and his shoulders curl in on himself and he looks so small, to Harry. So disappointed in himself. "He was fun, easy-going, he had a good sense of humour; he reminded me of you in the sense that it was so easy to be around him. He was a distraction and, yeah, he was a great guy but he distracted me from my thoughts of you and Memphis and then it just...it just happened – but it didn't! It didn't happen; I made him leave right after you left because I couldn't... I just couldn't, not after I saw the look on your face..."

Silence falls between them and this is when Harry has to sit down because otherwise his legs are going to give way. He buries his face in his hands, lets out an impossibly shaky breath and tries to process everything that Niall has just told him. That Niall may have been in love with Harry almost as long as Harry has been in love with Niall. The only difference is that Harry had known what those feelings had meant and Niall hadn't. 

A million things are flying through Harry's mind and a million feelings are grabbing at his heart and, quite frankly, he doesn't know what to do with himself. He's overwhelmed; doesn't know if he should cry or laugh or run. His lifelong dream is coming true and he should be happy – he is happy, but he's also terrified. 

"I've figured it out, Harry," Niall says softly and Harry's gaze snaps upwards, landing on the blond boy standing against the half wall where Harry just was. "I've figured it out and it's you. I don't want to run away anymore and I don't want to lose you-"

And somewhere between the moment where Niall started talking and the moment where he was forced to stop, Harry had thrown himself to his feet and across the space between them before swallowing Niall's words with his own mouth as he presses his lips firmly against Niall's. It's like he's 13 again, kissing this boy for the first time – despite having kissed him (and then some) many weeks ago. His heart is racing and his palms are sweating and Niall's lips are soft and perfect against his own. Niall lets out a whimper and Harry deepens the kiss, slipping his arms around Niall's thin waist as he presses their bodies together. Niall's hands get lost in Harry's hair and Harry lets out an embarrassingly loud moan; he feels Niall's lips pull into a smile which only causes to Harry to smile as well. 

And then they're both laughing and pulling away and panting, foreheads pressed together, arms wrapped securely around each other, bodies pressed flush together. 

"I'm so fucking in love with you," Niall whispers, nipping the tip of Harry's nose with his lips. 

And Harry's been waiting to hear those words for so long that the only way he can say them back is by kissing the blond boy again and again and again – because now he can and now he will.

End.


End file.
